Tohper's Journal
by RavensPoeticSoul
Summary: Topher's thoughts about Claire put into journal form. one-shot, might be more.


Topher journal

Entry 264

We were like Romeo and Juliette, doomed from the start. Not because our family s hated each other, because we did. Someone might wonder why I said we had such a thing as love, if we hated each other. To us it made sense. I wasn t a love/hate relationship. It was a hate that I love you relationship.  
>It made us sick. But we needed it. We needed to feel loved, even if it was by the one we despised with our entire beings. She hated me for making dolls. I hated her for being so judgmental. She hated that I had no morals and that I was the main cause for the alpha attack. I hated her because it was true. I hated her because she could see through my walls. She hated my passive attitude just to push people away, and the fact I saw everyone as a play thing.<p>

But most of all I hated her because I didn t. I was never revolted by the scars marring her face. I couldn t help that I started smiling when I saw her in the corner of my eye, or the fact my eyes almost automatically were drawn to her office hoping to catch a glimpse of her through the frosted glass. It was pathetic really, that I was so desperate to be with her I had to pretend she meant nothing to me. She told me to treat her like a doll, like she was a toy. It made me sick to treat her like that. But she wanted no strings attached. And I was so obsessed that I agreed.  
>I figured it would be a one-time thing. That over time I would just become bored with her. And karma was either very kind or crueler then Dewitt, as my feeling just got stronger for the broken doctor. I had to work harder to keep my distance and hide the growing emotions. But no matter how hard I tried something always got through my barriers; a heavy sigh, or love drunk eyes and a stupid smile. Ivy had to ask me something three times before I finally heard her. She said I was always off in my little world.<br>My own little world. And I decided then that sooner or later I d have to destroy that world. Being around Saunders wasn t safe. I didn t know which I was trying to protect: my job or my heart. Maybe both in some odd way. So I tore down our relationship. And when it came down to it I told her that I was repulsed and disgusted by her. Lying through my teeth, saved my damned job.  
>Don t get me wrong; I love lying. It s part of my job, and I love my job. So very much. So it was the obvious choice, right? To choose my job over her. It made logical sense. She could get bored with me and leave, while my job would stay. My job wouldn t ignore me for weeks.<br>My job would never get mad at me because I was busy. My job would never yell at me for being an idiot. It would never break my heart.  
>It would never keep me warm at night. Or run its fingers through my hair comfortingly. Neither of them would ever return my feelings.<br>No matter which one I chose I knew I would be boned. Either I go to the attic or get my heart broken. The real challenge was figuring out which one was worse. And if I did choose my job, would it be worth it?  
>Knowing I d never have another chance when it came to love? Because,<br>really, who else could put up with my mindless rambling and childish antics? Who else would ever understand why I did what I did?  
>I could tell someone and hope that they could understand, or just not tell them. But they would leave it at that. Never pry any further or poke around my things nosily. But would they put rats in my cupboards and randomly switch off the lights in my office just to see me squirm?<br>Would I be able to joke with them and say cruel things in a rage without them actually taking what I said to heart?  
>They wouldn t look at me like I was holding a ten inch non-serrated blade to their face. They wouldn t look like their world was shattering as the horrid words left a stale taste in my mouth. They would never leave a handprint burning on my cheek. I don t know why I thought she hated me. Maybe I thought it was because she never came anywhere near me unless it was to yell at me. I m so freaking stupid.<br>I call myself a genius but I can t see obvious signs right under my nose. And because of my stupid insecurities I would never have a whole heart, if I had one in the first place.  
>It was almost as if I could feel her nails drag along my chest as she ripped my heart out, tore it in two then shoved it right back in. I wonder if anyone else can hear the fractures forming. I m a scientist;<br>I know the facts, so why on earth did I think that someone like me could have a happy ending? Why did I fill my head with fairy tales and frivolous things like love? And if love isn t real, why does my heart hurt so much? 


End file.
